She very slowly ricocheted from wall to wall, soaking in each painting, unconcerned with the cluttered surrounding of weekend art seekers. Margot is a graduate of NYU’s Gallatin School and recently started a job at The Cultivist. She not only came for Jim Shaw’s survey exhibition at the New Museum but also got a docent tour by none other than the artist himself. Impossible to relinquish the impulse to take her photo, we loved Margot’s casual elegance. However, what drew us in even more was her combat boots and flannel skirt combo. It tapped into our soft side for 90s tv nostalgia, giving us flash backs to My So-Called Life’s teenage heroine and grunge maven Angela Chase. (photo by Xavier Aaronson)

This is Krickie. It’s a name that’s impossible to forget. She collects vintage clothing and came to the MoMA PS1 for a stroll through the arts. Krickie was spotted on the main floor but agreed to walk up to the top floor so we could be surrounded by the colossal formica pieces by Louise Lawyler. (Photo by Xavier Aaronson)

Serena’s from Berlin — but made sure to specify that she was born in NYC — has impeccable taste in cute beanies and future chic skirts, while generally giving off a casual cool femininity that’s undeniable no matter how many striking women you’ve encountered in your life. She’s currently doing an internship at Independent Curators International before she returns to school to hopefully study art. While we can’t stop drooling over her Ohne Titel skirt — German for “untitled” — what she was most excited about were her new chromed out kicks.

Remember that quick-witted 10th grade teacher who had awful style but knew just the way to simultaneously put you in your place while making you look up to her? That’s exactly how I feel about the stern demeanor from security guards and their occasional fun-crushing in the name of something you respect, like art. (photo by Xavier Aaronson)

Let’s Not and Say We Did is a new Babes At The Museum series that reviews art exhibits without actually attending them.

Why peel off your pajamas and physically drag yourself to a museum, when our eyeballs are so tightly fastened to our multifarious display screens that a noteworthy chunk of our art consumption and critique is absorbed through some of our favorite portals like Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter.

In this first installment, our bodacious ink slinger Marie-Clare Treseder Gorham ”attends” the Ai Weiwei’s @Large exhibit at Alcatraz and culls some of social media’s yays, nays, and whatevs to offer a glimpse into what people —who actually attended the show — are saying about the artwork.

Last Friday, the New Museum hosted an early evening Halloween party. They invited its members and handpicked je ne sais qui from NYC’s art, film and fashion circles.

That day, I guzzled the Halloween Kool-Aid and got swept down a river of costume frenzy upon which I was swimming madly as a party-thirsty shark.

There’s something eerie and bemusing about creeping through a museum as overgrown children donning masks and temporary face paint bumble around the galleries.

There was a medusa, two Frida Kahlhos, double unicorn action, a six-foot tall weed leaf, and a too-lifelike-for-comfort Bret Michaels. Far from dastardly, the ghoulish festivities were filled with well-mannered chatter and excited curiosity over each others’ elaborate and sometimes obscure costumes, all while surrounded by large-scale paintings by Chris Ofili and an installation by Lili Reynaud-Dewar.

I wouldn’t call it a rager but it was the snackiest of warm-up parties with the right kind of early evening punch to the sternum before heading into a long night leading into an early grave.

Finding the measure of a babe is as much about the intangible charms that light up an interaction as the clothes that keep them incandescent.

Janelle was leaving the museum just as we were entering it. She offered us a generous u-turn after asking if she’d join us on a whimsical stroll through the Maris Lassnig exhibition. Who would have known our brief encounter would be crowned with an impromptu tango.

Janelle is a writer and when the computer screen make her eyes feel like their melting, she punches bags until her hands hurt.

Click here for more photos of Janelle cutting a rug with Isaiah, MoMA PS1′s finest of security guards.

We spotted Jennifer completely engulfed in Tara Donovan’s razor-sharp fuzzball installation at the Pace Gallery. So engrossed in fact, she took a bow to acknowledge applause of Donovan’s ability to create a structure that changes your perspective as you navigate around its entire surface.

In large, anonymous cities there are moments when being open to an unexpected stranger promises an encounter that’s routinely brief, largely banal and occasionally unforgettable. Rachel was one of those fortunate meetings that we have all too rarely but that linger with us for longer than we expect. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and we crossed paths at the MoMA PS1 in Queens, NY. It’s hard to explain what lured us to her; it could have been her flourishing yet holed-up sweatshirt or perhaps her vibrant choice of lipstick, which contended well with Maria Lassnig’s intensely hued artwork. Only lasting a handful of minutes, our bracing interaction with Rachel was like a vivid blur. Soon after, she excused herself, explaining that she should hurry back to her studio, where she planned to use that day’s museum stimulation to work on some new designs for her lingerie label.(photo by Xavier Aaronson)